Take The Chance
by sortofem
Summary: Marianne Diem finds herself unwillingly involved with Draco Malfoy, a boy who she has sworn to hate.


A light breeze drifted across the surface of a dark, glossy lake, ruffling its surface and stirring the light of thousands upon thousands of stars into distortion. The leaves in the trees barely moved, there was nobody around, not a sound to be heard. Even the animals were silent; as if aware something was amiss.

Marianne Diem shivered. The nature of the quiet made her feel quite uneasy. She pulled her robes closer to herself, trying to shrug off the feeling that had hung over her since she's left the warmth and safety of the common room. _I shouldn't have come_. She thought desperately, rubbing her arms vigorously, for comfort rather than warmth. _I shouldn't have – shit! What was that? _A sudden sound broke the silence; though it was not as much of a sound as a sensation – the feeling of motion somewhere nearby. She spun around and a startled bird took flight behind her; she jumped again. She felt certain that somebody was close to her, but she could hear nothing now.

Suddenly, two hands grabbed her firmly from behind, covering her mouth before she had time to make a noise. The arms that held her were strong, and Marianne caught a familiar scent of stylish cologne. A hand moved to her robes and pulled them away from her face, brushing back her hair.

"Diem, what the hell are you doing here?" when Marianne recognised the voice she froze rigidly; Draco Malfoy was a boy she hated more than anything.

She struggled her face free of his grip and replied, "What are you doing here Malfoy? Some kind of prank?" She tried to worm free of his hold, but he was far too strong. He twisted her around in his arms, so that she might face him, and she glared up into the blue eyes glowing coolly in the moonlight.

"I take it you sent that note?" he demanded, "trying to be bloody funny were you?" he shook her. "I thought that was – I thought it was something important."

"Well so did I. What are you talking about, it was me who got a note."

"Keep your voice down. What the bloody hell do you think you are messing with?" Malfoy shoved Marianne with a force driven by pure anger, and she fell backwards, tripping over a root as she did so and sending herself flying. She rolled clumsily to the shore of the lake, cheeks burning and thankful for the darkness that covered her embarrassment.

"Shit Marianne, I thought this was something really important. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself caught up in."

Malfoy moved to stand over Marianne. There was a wildness in his eyes that terrified her. He brought himself right down close to her, his face contorted with anger.

"Malfoy, get away from me. I wouldn't have come if I'd known it was you."

His expression changed, still unreadable, and he pulled the limp girl up towards himself. Marianne realised that her right side felt numb with pain, and allowed herself to be supported fully by Malfoy strong arm.

"Put your arm around my neck, I'll help you back" Malfoy looked nervously all around them, and across the lake, as if checking for somebody. Marianne obeyed and he pulled her into a standing position, holding her closely, so that their chests were pushed together. Marianne felt sure he would feel her heart pounding, but she wasn't quite sure what it was she was afraid of. A change seemed to have come over her; she was feeling strangely - she couldn't put her finger on it – protected. She had always been aware of how good looking Malfoy was – who wasn't – but she hated him to the point of repulsion, and with good reason; his family were the reason she had grown up with no parents.

Marianne sat on her bed, with her duvet pulled around her, staring at a note held with trembling fingers.

i You must meet me by the lake tonight, at midnight. Its urgent.

Please /i 

This had been on her pillow when she had woken up that morning. Her first instinct had been to tell her best friend, Martha Green, and then discuss the sensibility of going down to the lake with the safety of her friends. But then, as the day wore on, she had been less and less able to mention it to Martha. Something inside had stopped her. And after tea that night she had decided, without thinking, that she would go. And she had met Malfoy. How strangely he had acted; the note surely hadn't been his. And how would he have gotten it into her dormitory? But what had he been looking for at midnight by the lake, what had he been expecting? It felt rather ominous to Marianne. Of course, he had talked about a note himself. This must have been simply a nasty prank.

So why now did she feel so very confused?

She was quite sure that Malfoy had been expecting somebody else - that his note had therefore come from a different source to her own.

i I need to ask him. To look at his note. /i she thought, burning with curiosity. And confusion.

Malfoy had been silent all the way back to the castle. But he had also been strangely kind; helping her to walk. He had been holding her so tightly, and now she imagined she could feel the warmth of his grip on her shoulder still. She could not stop thinking about Malfoy, and every time she saw his face in her mind's eye she felt rigid with anger. But her heart also felt rather... silly.

i I have to speak to him. /i she decided, unsure of why, and hurried downstairs. When she reached the entrance to the Griffindor common room, she almost fell over in surprise, for Malfoy was stood right in front of her. Marianne felt her heart flip in shock; her hold body stiffened and rushed from hot to cold.

As soon as she saw him, Marianne needed to get away from Malfoy's sneering face. She felt immediately embarrassed about having wanted to see him. What surprised her, though, was that Malfoy was looking equally embarrassed.

He hurriedly composed his face though, and sneered at her. "Couldn't stop thinking about me Diem?" he said cockily. Marianne felt a jolt of hatred stab through her heart.

Exasperated, and unable to retort, she turned to go. Her cheeks were flaming again; she couldn't bear for Malfoy to hold such a position over her. She had just reached the portrait hole, when she felt Malfoy grabbed her arm.

A shiver ran over Marianne's body at the contact.

There was an inexplicable change in his voice when Malfoy spoke. "Why did you send me that note, Diem?"

"I didn't send it. I got one too – see," Marianne held out the crumpled paper, "I thought it was a joke…"

"You shouldn't have gone out on your own like that, after dark."

"Neither should you," said Marianne, sneering at Malfoy's concern. Her rudeness seemed to remind him of the hatred between them.

"Need I remind you that, as a prefect, I have good grounds to put you in detention Diem." His grip on Marianne's arm tightened.

"But seeing as you probably have no explanation as to why you yourself are out of bed after midnight, I don't suppose you will." Marianne answered coolly.

Malfoy's sneer deepened.

"Just give me one little reason, next time I see you, and I'll make sure you see punishment."

Marianne ripped her arm out of Malfoy's grip and shoved him. There were a hundred insults she felt she could have thrown at him, but she forced herself to walk away.

Malfoy, his face unreadable, returned to the Slytherin common room. It was empty, and dimly lit by the glowing embers in the big marble fireplace. Feeling too tired for bed, he flopped onto a soft leather sofa and stared blankly at the flickering of the shadows on the stone walls, until they slowly shrank away.

In the Griffndor common room, Marianne lay in much the same position, watching the embers fade into nothing. Her eyes were half shut; her mind rested on the brink of sleep, and she was thinking without being aware of doing it, much like dreaming. She kept going over the meeting with Malfoy on the lake that night, thinking about the things he had said, the way he had reacted to her, his body language – over and over, until she was exhausted.

The fire had died entirely, and the room was now lit by the silvery glow of dawn creeping through the high windows and over the marble floor. Malfoy stirred, and realised that he had been thinking about Marianne for several hours. He was exhausted. He glanced at the time, and realised that he had to be in lesson in just two hours. Wearily he got up, and with his shoulders sagging from tiredness, he headed down the spiral staircase to his bedroom.

Marianne stirred, having not really slept at all all night, to see the first few groups of early-risers heading downstairs to breakfast. Behind her, some girls from her year were sat around a table hastily scribbling notes onto some parchment; presumably their homework for Snape. Which she hadn't done.

i Oh, no! Not only am I going to have a lesson with Malfoy in two hours, but I'm going to get a detention as well. /i 

The letters she had written on the parchment swam before her eyes, and Marianne's thoughts drifted again. Time was running out, and shed written just one paragraph on the theory of silent spell casting. Her eyelids were heavy, and her thoughts seemed to come through a thick glue. She was exhausted, and work was impossible.

Knowing that detention was imminent, Marianne decided to avoid a public humiliation by missing the class. Charming herself to raise her body temperature, she headed to the hospital wing, and complained, through tears, of feeling sick. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey was busy with somebody whose shoulders were sprouting large hedgehog quills, and recommended bed rest.

(flashback)

i It was a few years after the mysterious disappearance of The Dark Lord. Marianne was very young. She was sitting at the table with her parents and her older brother Aidan, listening to the quidditch world cup match on the wireless. England were losing to Australia, and her brother and father were making a lot of noise in their distress. Her mother was checking some paperwork, whilst feigning interest in the match. Marianne sat and quietly listened, too enthralled by all the excitement for anything else.

There was an argument between her parents about her mother's work. Marianne's mother was employed by the ministry, and worked very hard for them, because she was quite important. The match was still playing, and Aidan was trying to distract Marianne from the fight by talking to her about the game. England had just scored a goal, and her brother was cheering, when the fire in the fireplace turned green and a man with long, silvery blonde hair appeared. There was silence, except for the blaring wireless, which Aidan quickly turned off. Her parents exchanged terrified looks, and her brother dragged Marianne upstairs, where she lay on her bed listening to the sound of raised voices; her mother's angry, the stranger's cruel, and her father's panicked. The idea of her dad - an ex-auror and the bravest man she knew - being scared of this man, made Marianne more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

A few weeks later, Marianne was sent to live with her aunt, and Aidan went back to school. Months passed without Marianne hearing anything from her parents. At Christmas she saw Aidan for just a week, and he tried to explain to her that their parents were living for a year in Bolivia, doing something very important for the ministry, but that they loved her very much and would come back for her as soon as they could. Almost two years later, Marianne saw her mother for the first time, talking to her through the fire place using floo powder. She barely recognised the tired, ill-looking woman who had been absent from her life for so long. Marianne had stopped missing her parents long ago, and promises of being moved to Bolivia to live with them seemed strange and unreal.

Shortly before her first year of Hogwarts, Marianne's brother explained to her the whole story, as to what had happened to her parents. He was leaving to go to Africa on work for the ministry, and before he left he wanted to tell her the truth. The Diem family, Aidan had told her, had a historical feud with the Malfoys, in particular their own parents with Lucius and Narcissa. Aidan didn't know the cause of the hatred, but he knew how strong it was. Lucius Malfoy had been a death eater, and Marianne's parents knew about it, but had never been able to prove it. Her father had testified against him to no avail. That night when Lucius had arrived at their home, he had blackmailed the Diems with some 'proof' he had fabricated which would pin them as alliances of Voldemort. The couple fled the country, leaving their children in the care of an aunt, in spite of the fact that the allegations were false, because they knew of Lucius Malfoy's power amongst the ministry. They kept a good correspondence with Aidan, but decided not to write to Marianne because she was too young to understand. When her mother contacted Marianne via floo powder, the ministry finally tracked Agora Diem, having captured her husband a year beforehand. Both of Marianne's parents had been in Azkaban while she was growing up, for a crime both her brother was certain they did not commit.

Halfway through her first term at Hogwarts, Marianne received a note from Aidan:

/i our parents are dead. They died together in that hell hole. I know you didn't know them but they loved you so much, and I'm so sorry they couldn't be there for us. That bastard Malfoy will pay i 

Having never missed her parents, because of how little she had known them, Marianne was surprised at herself when she felt wretchedly depressed about losing them. She had always felt awkward about having no parents, rather as though she didn't fit in with other children, but she had never been as physically depressed about it until then. From that moment onward, she took up a sworn hatred to the Malfoy family, one which she took out on Draco, the most foul boy in her year.

Marianne awoke from the dream about her parents to a huge shock. Malfoy was stood by the end of her bed, sneering as usual.

"What do you want?" she asked, her hatred for him and his family resurfacing.

"Snape asked me to come and get your homework." Draco said, looking proud of himself, "obviously, you've not done it, so shall I tell him you were far too busy chasing me around the castle to bother with homework. Or would you rather tell him yourself?"

"Malfoy, you are such a..." seething too much to think of a decent insult, Marianne trailed off.

"Intelligence just radiates from you, dosn't it Diem? Well, I'm very glad to say that Snape asked me to issue your punishment for not doing the homework; so its detention with me tonight, and you can hand in the essay first thing tomorrow morning."

"For god's sake, Malfoy, can't you just piss off. How am I supposed to do the essay if I'm in detention?"

"I thought you rather seemed to enjoy staying up all night for me. And its my final offer, that or a weeks detention and we can forget the essay. So its a date then, see you at half six."

He sneered cockily at Marianne, and left her alone, her whole body boiling with anger.

Shortly after he'd gone, Madam Pomfrey bustled over and turned Marianne out:

"There's nothing wrong with you, and I'll not have my bed space wasted by people who can't face their lessons. Off with you."

Marianne sat with her friends, Martha and Katie, in the Griffindor common room, trying to focus on her essay. Martha had lent her a copy of her own, "for reference" she had insisted, and was now copying the notes from the class she'd missed. i Where would I be without her? /i thought Marianne. Even with the help of Martha's neatly printed essay, however, the task was proving immensely difficult. She'd been sitting around for almost half an hour since dinner and had written just two lines, which were basic rearrangements of Martha's own opening. It was now quarter past six, fifteen minutes till her detention with Malfoy, and Marianne had never felt less like writing in her life. Every time she looked down at the page, Malfoy's sneering face appeared in her mind's eye. Every time she read the name 'Dracolt', or the word 'malfunction' or almost any other word that looked remotely similar to Draco Malfoy, she thought of him.

"Why has he got to be such a complete… gah" Marianne couldn't think of a powerful enough insult to use, but the expression on her face spoke louder than words.

"I know, he's a creep, but stop going on about it. It'll be over in a few hours." Katie said, in a bored voice.

"But I just can't stand him, he's so…" again Marianne trailed off.

"We know" sighed Martha, "obviously you're not going to get anywhere with that tonight." She pulled the empty parchment from Marianne's hands, "I'll finish it for you – just this once – and you can owe me. Big time. You better get going."

"Thank you so, so much" Marianne squealed, throwing her arms around her friend's neck.

"What's that's pathetic little creep getting you to do, anyway?" asked Katie.

"I don't know… come to think of it, he didn't even say where I'm supposed to go." Marianne glanced at the clock, "ten minutes, dammit." She turned and ran from the common room, leaving her two friends rolling their eyes in exasperation.

Draco Malfoy stood outside the library, smirking. Marianne rushed round a corner, saw him, cursed silently, and hurried over, still panting.

"Eager, Diem?" Malfoy's smirk deepened, "you're five minutes late, so I guess you can stick around for another half hour on top to make up for it." Marianne's hands curled into fists, she was practically shaking with a desire to hit him. Draco caught hold of her arms, and drew his face close to Marianne's "don't get nasty," he said maliciously, "I can make this even more painful for you." Still holding onto her wrist, so tightly it hurt, he turned and half-dragged Marianne into the library.

Two hours later, Marianne turned over yet another piece of parchment. 'I will not miss my lessons or assignment deadlines'. Her hand was shaking from holding a quill for so long. She paused, flexed her fingers, then began to write again. Ten minutes later, and the page was completed. Ten feet of parchment, covered in the same line. i ten points for originality, Draco /i she thought. Malfoy had wandered off a while ago, but Marianne was pretty certain he was somewhere nearby. She had the distinct feeling of being watched, and it was more than uncomfortable. Marianne looked around now, wondering whether to just get up and leave the lines on the table.

Just then, Draco appeared with a stack of books. "Well, well, ten feet, without a word of complaint." He picked up the roll of parchment, glanced over it, then, smirking, tossed it into the fire. Marianne almost shouted out, but forced her hatred down even further and remained silent, though she was shaking with rage. "That took you a lot longer than I expected," said Malfoy, "you work much too slowly. You've barely got time to finish the rest of your work." Marianne glared at him. "Don't be so cross, I've gotten all the books you need. You have to research everything you missed this lesson, and the stuff for tonight's homework. It's all written down there." He pointed to a list on top of the books. Without a word, Marianne picked it up and opened the first book. She expected Draco to go away again, but instead he took a seat across the table from her and sat there smirking infuriatingly.

Half an hour passed. Marianne had been working quickly and poorly, but she was just too desperate to get away from Malfoy. She had remained silent the whole time she'd been in his company, although he had kept making comments designed to infuriate her. She was enjoying listening to his words fall into silence, and beginning to sense his growing annoyance at her refusal to be wound up.

"Why so quiet, Diem? Can't talk and work at the same time?" Draco yanked the parchment she was taking notes onto out from underneath her and glanced over it. "this looks a bit scrappy, you better hope I don't have to make you do it again." Marianne snatched the work back and ignored him. "Times almost up and you still haven't finished, I'm going to have to make you stay longer. Of course we both know that deep down, its what you really want." He touched her hand, mockingly. Marianne flinched away from him – the contact sent sparks of passionate hatred round her body. "perhaps I can give you some more lines, light a few candles… make your day wouldn't I, Diem?" Still Marianne said nothing. Finally bored, Draco swayed. "all right, fine. That's enough now. Off you go." He waved his hand, with the dismissive air of a conceited prince. Marianne gathered up her parchment of notes, stood up, and walked away without a word.

Outside of the library, Malfoy grabbed her arm. "You forgot to hand in your work." He said, grabbing the research out of Marianne's hands. "Thanks a lot for this; it'll really come in handy." He smirked, and tucked the parchment inside his robes. Marianne made a grab for them, but Draco caught her wrist. Bursting with fury, Marianne slapped him across the face with her free hand. She tried to wrestle herself free, but Malfoy pushed her against the wall, leaning his whole body into hers. His face was so close to hers she could barely focus on his sharp blue eyes, or the pink mark starting to show on his cheek. "Don't ever do that again," he said, dangerously, "or you'll regret it."

Marianne wanted desperately to back away, to sink into the wall, anything to get away from the smell of cologne, and from the awful closeness. Every inch of Malfoy was violating her personal space. Suddenly, with a jolt that felt as though someone was pulling her forwards with a hook through her stomach, Marianne found Draco's lips pressed against hers. She felt wretchedly sick, and seemed to loose all feeling in her knees, from shock, or disgust, causing her to fall forwards into Malfoy's arms. He released his grip on her, grinned his infuriatingly cocky grin, and strode away.

"All your Christmases come at once, Diem?" he called over his shoulder.

The clouds in the morning sky were blood red, glowing ominously with the promise of bad whether ahead. The rays of the rising sun, slipping from behind them, crept in through the east window of the Griffindor common room, eliminating shadows and catching the dust which spiralled slowly round the quiet room. The light picked out the coppery tones of the red hair which hid the face of a sleeping figure, slumped over a pile of parchment at a table in the corner. Marianne, who had worked through the night and finally given in to sleep just an hour ago, began to stir. Through bleary eyes she squinted at the work beneath her: she had finally caught up with everything she was behind on, although the writing was barely legible and the edges of the work was covered in doodles.

Then she felt a jolt of shock: in the same handwriting as the first note was a message at the bottom of a piece of her work.

i meet me in Hogsmeade tomorrow. /i 

Again there was no name. Nor did this note say where in Hogsmeade she was to meet the stranger, or when.

"Who are you?" Marianne murmured to the silent room. Outside, a crow squawked as her only reply.

"I thought we agreed to stay at the castle tomorrow. You wanted peace and quiet." Katie said, taking a piece of toast from Marianne, who had been sat at breakfast since she'd woken, waiting for her friends to come down so that she could propose the trip into Hogsmeade.

"Yes, but now I fancy a walk." Said Marianne weakly. She still hadn't told her best friends about the mysterious notes, or about her bizarre encounter with Malfoy the night before. She knew it was dangerous to go looking for the sender of the messages, but she was desperately curious. She wondered if Malfoy had gotten one too.

"So we'll go for a walk in the grounds. I'm tired, I want a lie in tomorrow." Katie retorted.

"Well, I just want to get some Butterbeer or something." Marianne said, sounding slightly desperate.

"I've still got a few bottles left from my birthday."

"I want to go to the Three Broomsticks to drink them"

"You don't even like it in there, it's always too crowded." Katie was looking curious now.

"I just want to go." Marianne half shouted her last argument. Martha intervened:

"If you still want to go tomorrow, I'll come with you. I need to get a new quill anyway. Katie can stay here and have a lie in, and we'll come back around half eleven."

Marianne smiled weakly at her friend, painfully aware that both Martha and Katie were giving her quizzical looks for her sudden outburst, and her strange desire to go into Hogsmeade.

The next day, Marianne and Martha got up early, leaving Katie in bed. Marianne spent so long deciding what to wear that Martha went down to get breakfast without her. She came back twenty minutes later with some toast for Marianne, who was still choosing.

"Ok, this is taking too long, even for you," Martha said suspiciously, "what's going on?"

Marianne blushed deeply, grabbed a loose, woollen green jumper with a baggy, rolled neck, and paired it with her favourite jeans. "Nothing, I'm just… just having one of those days." Martha rolled her eyes.

Marianne made excuses to visit every shop in Hogsmeade's high street, so that by the time they entered the Three Broomsticks she was laden down with bags containing a variety of things she didn't need. Nobody had approached her, or caught her eye, and nothing had seemed out of place all morning. She had been on the alert all through the village, peering side to side as she walked and checking over her shoulder constantly. Martha had noticed, asking several times what she was looking for. Marianne had also been on the lookout for Malfoy, partially because she dreaded meeting him after their detention two nights ago, and partially because she was desperate to know if he had received a message like hers. As they walked into the Three Broomsticks, fighting through a crowd of students, Marianne and Martha passed Draco Malfoy, who was on his own and looking rather distracted. Marianne caught his eye, and tried to discern if he'd gotten a message. He returned her inquisitive gaze with his usual sneer, but made no sign that suggested that he too was expecting somebody, before he moved off through the crowd. Marianne sat at an empty table near the window, while Martha went to the bar.

The queue was huge and Martha was gone a long time. Marianne sat, awkwardly aware that she was alone, and with the unmistakable feeling that she was being watched. Looking round, she saw nobody. She began to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

Martha came over with the drinks, her own already almost empty. She was flushed a little and looking as though she were straining to hold back an ear-to-ear grin. Marianne barely noticed, she was too busy peering round the crowded inn, so Martha broke the silence first.

"You'll never guess what just happened!" she gushed, no longer containing the smile, "Thom Lorenz just came up to me at the bar, and he - spoke - to - me!"

Marianne looked sharply at her giggling friend, "I thought you said he was a conceited prat?"

Martha blushed deeply. She had like Lorenz for the longest time, but had fought to conceal it from her friends, who both knew anyway despite her best efforts. "Well, I, that is, I meant..." she trailed off and shrugged with an uncharacteristic giggle, "anyway, he asked if he could walk home with me. And of course I said yes, because I was so excited, and I forgot you. I'm so sorry. But you could come with us."

Marianne felt far from put out - in fact, she felt like beaming. This was perfect, now perhaps she could find the mysterious note sender. "Absolutely not! I'll go on my own; I've got to pop back for another quill anyway. You go with Thom." She saw Martha looked dubious, and added "I owe you anyway. Go, now!"

Martha squealed and threw her arms around her friends neck before dashing off into the crowd, once again leaving Marianne alone. Almost straight away, the feeling of being watched returned to her, but it was quickly interrupted by a cold hand grabbing her arm from behind.

i "Come to the shrieking shack. Now." /i A muffled voice hissed. Marianne whipped her head round, but the hand was gone, along with whoever it had belonged to. There was nobody behind her, except a giggling group of third year girls. She leapt off her stool and raced to the door. The street outside was empty. A rush of anticipation gripping her, Marianne took a deep breath and set off at a run for the shrieking shack.

It had begun snowing while she was in the Three Broomsticks, and now Marianne stood on a fairly deep blanket of snow outside the run down building that was rumoured to be the most haunted in Britain. A sharp wind had picked up, blowing a frenzy of thick, white flakes around her face, and having left her cloak on her stool at the inn in her excitement, Marianne found that she was freezing. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched haunted her still, but spinning in a circle she could see nobody, although the snow was so thick she could barely see the trees lining the path just feet behind her. She squinted up at the blurred face of the shack, drawn to the gaping, black windows and sure that somebody must be looking down on her from one of them. Suddenly, her sense of excitement and her curiosity faded, and she got the horrid feeling that she was in severe danger.

The wind obscured the voice that uttered the curse, so the jolt of it shocked her doubly. With a force that knocked the wind from her, Marianne felt her arms and legs stiffen up as though paralysed, and she dropped awkwardly to the ground, her wand falling a few inches from her in the snow.

The moments went by slowly, Marianne's heart racing in her chest, her hands and arms numb from the cold, her body trapped by the stupefication. The play of white over shadow from the frenzied snow gave her the impression that she was watching the world in black and white, and to Marianne the next few happenings felt surreal, as if they were elaborately staged within a strange atmosphere. A dark figure emerged from the shack, so obscured by the snow that it was hard to tell if he was there at all, or just a movement of shadow behind the swirling flakes. The figure moved closer, till it was standing above Marianne, and she saw that it was a man, dressed in a black, hooded cloak and makeshift mask; the only discernable feature a lock of oiled blonde hair that was barely visible.

i Malfoy? /i she thought. But no, this figure was taller than Draco, and more broad. Her heart sank.

The man spoke in the same rasping, muffled voice that she had heard in the Three Broomsticks. It felt vaguely familiar to Marianne. "Good girl. Stay still, and keep quiet." mocked the stranger. Then he moved away to stand in the cover of the trees a few feet from Marianne's left. She could no longer see him; for her head was locked facing the opposite direction. She could, however, see the appearance a few moments later of Malfoy, who looked around impatiently, before spotting her.

The wind masked his cry, but he was by her side in an instant. "I got another note, I thought it was you, what happened?" he stammered, hastily uttering the counter curse, and he pulled Marianne towards him into a sitting position, wrapping his cloak over her freezing arms and soaked-though clothes.

Marianne fought the pain in her body, trying to shout through her trembling jaw. "L-look out." She stammered, but too late. A flash of light came from behind Draco, he dropped his wand and fell to the floor, reeling in pain. The masked figure stepped forward, chuckling slightly as he directed his wand at Malfoy, who was twitching and convulsing. As his tormentor stopped for a moment, Malfoy lunged for his own wand, but the masked man sent him flying backwards with another flick of his wand.

"I have been waiting so long to watch your face twist in pain." He said, menacingly. His voice was louder and Marianne, who was still unable to move from cold, shuddered at the way it stuck a chord within her. Malfoy seemed to have suffered too much to move again, and lay in the snow about ten feet from Marianne, who watched helplessly.

"You are scum," the masked figure was shouting, "vile, treacherous, evil scum. Your father is scum. And he will pay for what he did to my family. He will pay with you. I will take you from him." The man seemed nearly hysterical. i "Crucio" /i he shouted, sending Malfoy reeling in pain again, before turning to Marianne.

"It is time, Marianne, to do what we swore to do. For our parents."

Marianne felt as though she had been thumped in the stomach as the horrific realisation dawned on her that the masked man was her own brother.

"Aidan?"

The man ripped off his mask, revealing a face that despite its square jaw and strong form looked weak and staved; pale, waxy skin stretched over the bones. The shadows under his eyes were deep and his eyes bloodshot, as though he had not slept in weeks, and his blonde hair, grown to shoulder length, was near white, and matted with grease. On closer study, now, Marianne saw that the man, though he had a strong build, broad shoulders and large, muscular arms, was stooped over as though greatly tired, and each time he moved, he winced as though in pain. His shabby cloak, its hood now thrown back, was torn in several places, and looked too small for the man, clinging to his muscular upper body in an almost comical fashion, and hanging slightly too short to reveal long leather boots adorned with studs and leather fastenings. His was a weakened, sick form of a body that had once been strong and upright; he looked as though he had been travelling and sleeping rough for weeks, maybe months.

The face was distinctly Aidan's, though to Marianne it seemed a ghost of the former strong, sensible face of her older brother; a madness seemed to have gripped his features and taken over him.

"Now, sister, we shall have our revenge." Aidan's voice was taught with excitement and came out at a high pitch which seemed nearly hysterical. He cackled with laughter as he directed the cruciatious curse at Draco once more.

Draco was putting up a marvellous fight. Each time the blinding pain ravaged his body, he grit his teeth and bore it. His mind swan, he could no longer see or hear, but he refused to give in.

Marianne mustered all of her strength, overcoming the pain of the cold that had gripped her body. She staggered forwards and lunged for her brother's wand, knocking him off balance.

Draco felt the pain subside. Marianne was standing above him. He smiled blearily. He heard the dark figure hiss angrily: "foolish girl. You know what he did to our parents. We must avenge them."

i Parents! /i slowly the realisation dawned on Draco, this man was Marianne's brother. But she had no parents, they were dead. And what on earth could he, Malfoy, have had to do with that?

"He's my age… he's just a kid" Marianne was shouting.

"Just a kid? With a father like his…" Aidan sneered, "he is barely human, and not worth your concern. We must do what we have sworn to do."

"I swore to hate him. I will not, cannot, stoop to the same level as his parents. And I refuse to believe that that's what mum and dad would have wanted," Marianne dropped to her knees by Malfoy, pulling him into a sitting position and cradling him towards her. With an animalistic cry, Aidan lunged forward. He had dropped his wand, but now used his bare hands to wrench Marianne away from Malfoy and throw her with huge force. Marianne hit the floor several feet away from her brother, the wind knocked out to her and her body experiencing a splintering pain all over.

The snow had died down, and now Marianne watched in horror as Aidan grappled with the weakened Malfoy. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the part of her that had sworn always to hate the Malfoy's agreed with Aidan. But her morals protested, her mind and heart screamed out against the scene that was unfolding before her. Aidan was gripping Draco's neck with two hands, forcing him face down into the snow. The sound of chocking sent horror resounding through Marianne. She thought of Malfoy's sneer, of his cocky nature, the detention she'd had with him, his strong arms pinning her to the wall, the kiss, the concern in his eyes…

Almost without realising, Marianne saw her previously dropped wand in the snow beside her. She grabbed it and tried to stand; her legs were too weak and she dropped back into the snow. The black-and-white world around her seemed to sink into slow motion, the wild movements of her brother barely registering. Breathlessly, she raised the wand and stammered through a locked jaw.

i "Stupefy!" /i 

She hit her brother with the same curse as he had used on her earlier.

His body stiffened and rolled off of Malfoy, who raised his head out of the snow, his arms shaking, and rolled over. He lay on his back, panting.

Marianne dragger herself to him. Malfoy sat up, took her in his arms, and they sat together shivering, for long moments.

When he had regained strength a little, after eating some of the Honeyduke's chocolate that Marianne had brought that morning, Malfoy conjured up ropes to fasten Aidan, and dragged him into the doorway of the Shrieking Shack, before releasing him of the stupefication curse. Then he helped Marianne to her feet, and guided her into the Shack. Stepping over the now struggling body of her brother, Marianne whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Malfoy helped her through a door and down a flight of stairs which led into what appeared to be an underground passageway.

"This leads back to the castle." Said Malfoy. "We can send somebody back for your brother when we get there."

Marianne nodded but remained silent. Shivering, and numb all over, she struggled not only with the extreme cold she ahd suffered but with an inner turmoil. Surely her brother would be sent to Azkaban, and though positive that for his behaviour he deserved it, she could not shake the fact that he was her brother. She could not forget the memories of how he had been while she was growing up, solemn and quiet but very caring, reluctant to hurt anybody, shy. How he had become such a twisted character was impossible for Marianne to fathom, but it felt more painful and confusing than losing her parents. If he had died it would have been easier to grasp than this.

"Marianne," said Malfoy, a little hesitantly, and with a strange feeling Marianne realised that he had used her forename for the first time ever. "What was that about?"

Marianne was silent for several long moments, weighing up the answer to this question in her mind. Eventually, she decided on the truth.

"My parents died in Azkaban. They were convicted death eaters, thanks to the evidence of your father." She tried to sound almost nonchalant, before adding coldly, "My parents were not death eaters."

"Oh," Malfoy looked hopeless, and possibly a little guilty. They continued walking in silence.

Towards the end of the journey, Marianne found the last of her strength used up. She collapsed, and Malfoy caught her. Her head swam on the brink of consciousness as he half-carried her up a flight of steps, and she was unaware of the whomping willow as they emerged from the passageway, unaware of the cold in the air, and of the screams of the first year's snowball fight they passed. She felt the strength of Draco's arms supporting her, and the warmth of his chest, but she was aware of little else.

The next day, Marianne woke up in a warm, clean bed in the hospital wing. She gave a small cough and tried to sit up, but at these small signs of life Madam Pomfrey bustled over to her.

"Drink this," she said, handing Marianne a small bottle of vile tasting purple liquid, "you're alright, just been out in the cold too long. Why you didn't have a cloak is beyond me… you'll be up and about in no time though… ah, headmaster"

Professor Dumbledore came and sat beside Marianne's bed. Marianne opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"I have already been filled in about everything. You were very brave, Marianne. I have to inform you that, unfortunately, your brother got away. The ministry have been informed and are searching for him, but obviously, if he makes any attempt to contact you, I must ask that you come straight to me. I know that you may wish to protect your brother, but you must understand that it would in no way do him any good to help him stay in hiding." Marianne nodded, she had already made up her mind about that. "Good. I believe that it is alright by Madam Pomfrey if you leave. I think the students will just about be finishing lunch, and I'm sure you'd like to talk to your friends." With a knowing smile and a nod, the headmaster left the hospital wing.

"Can I go?" Marianne said eagerly to Madam Pomfrey, for she was suddenly desperate to see Draco.

"Make sure you get something to eat." Said the matronly witch, bustling off to deal with somebody in another bed.

As she entered the great hall Marianne was aware of a sweep of hushed voices and whisperings following her; she realised that the news, or versions of it, had probably already swept the school. She was grateful to find Martha and Katie, and sitting down, she helped herself hungrily to ham sandwiches. Her two friends started immediately to quiz her on the events of the day before, but Marianne brushed away their comments, saying that she didn't want to talk about it yet. She kept looking round the great hall, trying to find Malfoy at the slytherin table.

She saw him, and caught his eye. He looked at her with recognition, said something to his companions, and left.

"I'll see you guys later" Marianne said, half-running out of the hall to follow Malfoy. She felt strangely nervous and excited, and absolutely unsure of what to say to him. With a sudden pang, she remembered the kiss that they'd had the other night, and found that the repulsion she's felt towards it was gone.

i There is no way that I can possibly – things just wouldn't work – and I don't even – I mean, his parents are in league with Voldemort… /i Thought Marianne as she hurried past the tables and out of the great hall.

Draco wasn't in the entrance hall when she got there, but the door to a room opposite her lay open. Marianne entered curiously, and found Malfoy facing her. She blushed deeply, unsure of why, and struggled with what to say. Draco looked equally awkward as he took a few paces across the room closer to her.

The uncomfortable silence lengthened. Finally, Malfoy said, "I, er, thanks. For yesterday. And I'm sorry."

"What have you got to be sorry for?" Marianne asked.

"Well, um," Malfoy shrugged, "you know."

Could Malfoy possibly be feeling bad about the fate of her parents? Had he somehow become less evil overnight? Marianne almost smiled, but then a thought struck her. Surely Draco would tell his parents about all this, and then…

"Look I um, I wanted to say that," Marianne struggled for the words, "We've been to Dumbledore, and the ministry knows… and you can go to… whoever you need to. But please remember that he is my brother."

She turned swiftly, not wanting Malfoy to see the tears running down her cheeks. But before she could take a step he grabbed her from behind. He turned her, gently but with force, and she felt weak in his arms. With one hand he brushed her hair back from her face, and then kissed her softly on the lips. Marianne half resisted, but only for a second, before all her apprehensions melted away. She could sort everything out later, for now, she was enjoying falling for Draco.


End file.
